No Glory
by 082 Martian Scout
Summary: For the usual days of Murray, Mesa's most popular racer, mobster threats, random gang wars, and an unlikely lover can be just enough to make things interesting. Rated for violent language and sexual themes. R&R.
1. Chapter 1

**_Summary: For the usual days of Murray, Mesa's most popular racer, mobster threats, random gang wars, and an unlikely lover can be just enough to make things interesting. Rated for violent language and sexual themes. R&R._**

_Main Characters: _- (does their animal species really even matter?)

- Murray (male hippopotamus)  
- Neyla (female clouded leopard)  
- Ricochet Adams (male Doberman)  
- Seymour "Slick" Samuele (male Chimpanzee) - (_Jammin Jabala_'s character)

* * *

**No Glory**

* * *

Mesa City, known for the population of over 460,000 citizens in its suburbs, was such a busy city with many activities going on - some seeming to continue without end even. Even nearing sunset, although some lights and businesses would surely stay active after dark, it was still as wild the usual party weekly, but tonight - for "the Murray" - it was another sweet and solid victory.

After just passing the finish line, and as soon as the Cooper Van reached a complete stop, Murray hopped out and gave the camera a big smile and wave - his image appeared in larger form upon the wide screen of the race track, and the audience cheered for him and his outstanding finish. His biggest racing fans.

All throughout the benches of screaming and cheering fans, he could see them wearing T-shirts and black bandit masks over their eyes - just like his own - and could hear them call his name in a loud uproar.

Afterward, he took his spot on the first place pedestal, holding a large, golden cup in his left arm while he continued to wave to all of the fans and paparazzi, smiling as many cameras flashed and took his picture. Among the crowd of fans, managers and workers, he spotted two figures pushing their way towards him - the same two people he had been working with for the last fourteen months.

Ricochet Adams - the Doberman - was several things, according to his job in Murray's contract he was his personal chauffeur, although considering the hippo was actually the one who preferred to do all the driving, he was mostly there as two other things, his always armed bodyguard and his friend. He had a great personality, with a somewhat interesting sense of humor, but he had a few different interests than he did - whereas while he liked vehicles and driving, Adams liked guns and shooting. Regardless he accepted that - he was still a good friend at times.

On the other hand, Seymour Samuele, the Chimpanzee - nicknamed "Slick," was a little more paranoid and serious. As his agent and manager of his contract, he was always the busy one out of the three of them, every time he saw him he was usually speaking through his cell phone, discussing business and meetings with people he didn't know, with subjects that refer to money or trips - he was the usual business manager. Why, he had even took the liberty of dressing in the casual yet formal apparel for tonight.

"Murray? Murray..." Someone called his attention, he turned his head to face Gary Truman, the head reporter of the paparazzi. "Can I ask you a few questions?" He held a microphone to the hippo.

Before he could even speak a single word into the mike, Samuele stood between them and waved the mike and cameras away, "Sorry, no comment. Mr. Murray has business to attend to," he said, and began to escort the hippo down the pedestal and down the red carpet, to the parking lot.

"Alright everyone," Adams cleared everyone away from the pathway, "make way! Big winner comin' through!"

They passed through the crowd and made it to the parking lot, where the Cooper Van would be there as their luxury transport vehicle. Sure, often at times, Samuele had suggested they use an actually limousine for the purpose of a cruise throughout the city, but Murray always turned down the idea. His Van was the only motorized vehicle he would ever ride in.

Adams broke away from the group to fetch the Van, while Murray and Samuele patiently waited for his return, fans screaming wildly behind them. The hippo smiled and waved to them all, just as a small, specific group of fans passed through the line and approached him. His agent was about to clear them away but the hippo refused his gesture and gave them what they wanted. He signed his autograph on their T-shirts and masks, and even took his picture with them.

Just as his Van finally showed up, with the chauffeur beeping the horn, Murray waved them all goodbye and headed for the driver's seat. However, Samuele stopped and began to escort him to the back seat.

"We need to talk," he said, as the hippo and Chimpanzee hopped in the back and closed the doors. The Van took motion and drove out of the lot, and onto the street. "Now Murray, pay attention. That last race of yours will probably be the last obstacle we'll have, considering the racing season is now pretty much over."

As the manager spoke, Murray zoned out and began to hesitate on a different subject. Racing season was over already? It was a real shame, he felt as if he had only just begun to have fun and enjoy the thrill. But now seeing how quick it all went this year, like it did last year, it was just enough to make him miss the odd days.

Back then, over a year ago, he was the driver and the brawn of the famous Cooper Gang, he had drove his Van in drag races and police chases more extreme than the racing he was doing now. He missed how free he felt back then, the risk and rush of actually putting your life on the line, able to drive by his own rules and no one else's. Those were the days when he had the real fun, but now as a retired thief and professional racer, he could only reminisce and think "those were the days."

"Murray? Murray!" Samuele slapped his hands together in front of the hippo, snapping him to attention. "Pay attention. In a few weeks, once we get that big bonus and agreement to renew your contract for next year, we'll have that big vacation in Hawaii."

"Right on! Ooh-ah for Hawaii!" Adams cheered, and suddenly jerked the steering wheel to avoid collision with an unexpected driver passing him. He stuck out of the window, "Hey! Watch the fuck where you're going, asshole!"

"Ah yes, indeed," Samuele seconded, "but until then, while I'm discussing the renewal of your contract I advise you to please lay low for time being. Feel free to take a stroll around town but do keep a low profile, and do stay clear of the paparazzi. Truman can be very determined to get what he wants out of people, so don't talk to them, don't acknowledge. Clear?"

"Okay," Murray nodded, as the Van began to pull into the driveway of his home in Mesa. The Big Winner's Den Casino. It was an enormous and very expensive hotel, reaching to about twenty-nine stories high, with many high class suites. Middle Class had regular suites, higher classes such as First had the Queen suites, but he - considering Samuele owned the whole casino - had been given the King suite, which was practically a whole apartment with his own room, private bathroom, big kitchen and lounge, and with the best view of the whole city. Pretty much named after him, because plenty consider him the "Big Winner."

As Adams parked the Van into their personal garage, Murray and his two companions strolled through the lobby and casino, where a lot of the real money seemed to come in. All around were aristocrats and patricians gambling, giving away their money in Poker, Black Jack, and several of the slot machines, all the while dancing girls performed on the stage, putting an excellent show for the customers. Yes, Samuele made sure that they would all be happy as they paid for their enjoyment, and as long as money filled his pockets, he would be happy too.

The Chimpanzee manager sent them away as he stayed behind in the casino to speak with several of the visitors, and so Murray and Adams were now on the elevator, heading for the top floor - to his suite. As they arrived at his suite's door, he positioned the keys in and opened it up, entering the King suite.

To anyone with eyes it was a luxurious paradise, the King suite had a special feature - additionally two floors to itself. Upstairs was his room, where his king-size bed laid all to himself with its own personal bathroom, beside that was a second, similar room which he had given to Adams, and across the hall from the staircases was the entrance that led to the rooftop. In its lower floor, the lounge was the first thing to notice - never mind the kitchen it had, what with the long sofa, love seats, coffee tables, wide-screen television, and - of course - the large shielding of glass that allowed them a extraordinary view of Mesa City.

They both took a load off and hopped on the sofa, tossing their shoes off and carelessly resting their heels on the coffee table. Adams pulled out a weapon - a Thompson submachine gun - on his lap and began to fiddle with it, "Boy Murray, I'm tellin' ya, we're living the good life here.

"I mean, look at us; living in the top suite of the best casino in Mesa, all the money and popularity we could ever need... whew, life doesn't get much better than this."

"Yeah, I guess," the hippo replied, remaining silent with his head lowered.

"You 'guess'? What's wrong, Murray?" the Doberman asked, "Not satisfied with all this good stuff?"

"I'm just... I'm just not feeling all that willing to relax, is all?"

"Oh, I see. You're bummed about it being the end of the racing season, aren't you? Well don't worry, soon we'll be in Hawaii. Just think about it, wide, open beaches, big Lou-outs almost every night, and, best of all, hula-babes is coconut bikinis. Then the real party begins."

"I know, but I'm - I'm just not thrilled all that much by it, at least not now," Murray said, sitting straighter up in an attempt to relax.

He glanced at Adams, as the canine hesitated for an idea, until he finally snapped his fingers, "Okay Murray, I know just the thing that'll cheer you up." The Doberman stood up and strolled over to the gun case, "Grab your coat, we're going out," he said, putting the Tommy gun away with the rest of his reserved firearms.

"Out?"

"Yeah, out - out to the party, out to live. I know a sweet bar around here, across the street, let's stop by there for a few."

"Drinking? But Adams, Slick informed me to stay out of trouble."

"Ah, don't worry about it, just think of Slick's directions as suggestions, you're just going out for a little fun in this city, and besides, I'll watch your back."

Murray wasn't all that confident, but Adams seemed firm about this, he had known the canine had been intoxicated before - and he had never gotten into any trouble. That was just enough to convince him that they could get into a bar and get out without starting a commotion, so he figured why not? "Okay, I'm in."

"Right on! But get your coat and make sure to keep a low profile, as Slick said before, getting recognized in public might not go so well for us. So c'mon, let's go. I'm driving."

* * *

After watching the finals of yet another disappointing race season, Muggshot grew dangerous close to rage as that hippo dirtbag Murray smiled and waved, and took the liberity of taking a photo for a few fans of his. He crushed the cigar in his teeth, it was like he was fucking mocking him and his own casino, the Dog House.

His rage was too visible from the outside, many of the few employees he invited to watch the race had already began to back away, creeping closer to the door, just as the hippo's vehicle passed the finish line of the final lap. They all knew the outrage their boss and kingpin could have, and were quite aware of the eruption, so they wanted to be as far as could be if they were to live. As soon as the bulldog howled in rage, they hurriedly scurried to the door, leaving the danger zone.

"Give me a god damned break!"

Muggshot howled, throwing the desk and furniture over, destroying everything breakable in sight. In blind rage he tore his own couch in two pieces and smashed his flat screen television set. He grabbed the lamp in one hard, menacing grip and tossed it at the wall, but before it could make contact and smash into hundreds of pieces it paused, almost as if caught by an invisible force.

The bulldog ceased his rampage and eyed the floating lamp, as it magically drifted back to its spot on the table stand. "Now, now Muggshot, take it easy," instructed a soothing, yet bone-chilling female voice, "you pump yourself full of steroid every day, you don't wanna heartattack, do you?"

He seethed and took a deep breath, finally calming the rest of his nerves as he lower his massive arms and watched the owner of the voice step into the light, whom was none other than Mz. Ruby.

"Yeah, yeah... you're right." He replied, catching his breath, "But what am I suppose to do? That freak'n hippo won the season final, again, and now the Big Winner's Den is gonna put my House outta business. None of my racers seem to win, and this place is going to the dumps, my business is getting worse because of that stupid hippo!"

"Relax Muggshot," the alligator grabbed the dog's chin and ushed him to look at her, "Calm down. If you keep bursting into rage like this you'll only be scaring off your own business, and then you still lose."

"Well, I'm trying to keep my business intact, and I'm mostly trying to win this little match of mine with that hippo. I don't get it, I've declared war against the Big Winner's Den, I've got the head of the gang war, but for some reason I'm still losing the fight here. That's the whole deal why I offered you the position at my side, I need you to take down Murray."

"I know, I know..." Mz. Ruby told him, "and never worry. I've got a plan cooked up to put down Murray and his reputation and love from Mess, he'll never see any of it coming, only I'll take him down through a different approach."

"Are you sure you can handle this?"

"Trust me, Muggshot, I know what I'm doing."

* * *

**Disclaimer: The character, Seymour "Slick" Samuele, was originally created by Jammin Jabala.**

**A/N: Just to let you all know, I'm just getting this earlier than I originally planned it so that I can continue where I last left off with ease. So I'll just let you all know that I'm not gonna be updating this story as I usually do with my other stories - because the most accurate reason will be because I'm mostly working on other work - such as the UC: Crossover Showdown I still have planned.**


	2. Chapter 2

**No Glory**

* * *

After a drive down the streets of Mesa, barely far away from the Big Winner's Den Casino, Murray and Adams entered _Wesley's_ bar, which apparently seemed to have quite a crowd of customers. Several drunkards sat at tables and booths, all jugging down what was obviously alcohol - according to the smell - and whistling at each woman whom passed by their vision.

_Oh boy_, Murray rolled his eyes as he over heard the pick-up lines those drunk bastards shouted, hearing them say "I'd tap that" and "Wonder what's under all those clothes" just made him shrugged as he tried to ignore them.

"Well Murray, here we are," Adams told him, "good ole Wesley's has just the booze and the party you could ever ask for."

"Er... I don't know, Adams," the hippo replied, visibly cautious around all these drunk strangers, "there's a lot of people here I don't know, and a... ugh! What's that smell?"

"Oh don't worry about that, that's just the booze you're smelling. Sure, it's got a pretty bad stench, but a pretty good buzz to it that's definitely worth it. You've gotta try one."

"But Adams, Slick told me to stay out of trouble and incognito, I think that includes going to a public bar, a place I've never been to, and drinking," Murray explained. The Doberman shrugged.

"You know what, screw Slick! Okay? Because it's time he learned that you're _his _boss, and that you need a little freedom to blow off a little steam after a good end to the racing season. Now c'mon, I'll buy you a drink."

Although it didn't seem like such a good idea, Murray was sure that turning down a drink paid for you would probably get him noticed, and that would be a problem if someone were to call the paparazzi to _Wesley's_ so they can interview "The Murray" on why he makes such a peculiar public appearance. He followed Adams and passed several of the likely already drunk customers that crowded the whole barroom, politely apologizing to each of whom he pushed through.

As Adams made it to the counter, Murray spotted a stool next to his and started for it, unwillingly bumping into a woman. He turned his head back to apologize to her, but found himself surprised as he got something of a glimpse of her. She was a clouded leopard, by the quick look of it, she looked quite beautiful, but actually sort of familiar. In fact, if he wasn't already drunk, he's think she was...

"Murray." Called a voice from behind him, just as a hand landed on his shoulder. He nearly jumped as he spun around, finding Adams at his side, "What's the hold-up?"

"Oh I uh... I - it's nothing. I just thought I'd... saw something," the hippo replied, shrugging as he glanced back, only to find no trace of the mysterious woman - must've disappeared among the crowd. Deciding it must have been nothing, he turned back to the Doberman, as they both took a seat on the stools, seated in front of the two mugs placed in front of them.

"Alright Murray, here's where you get your first taste of the good stuff," Adams told him, collecting his mug while the hippo picked up his own, "don't be scared to hold back, it's a little strong the first time. But if you want fun out of it, just jug it."

Murray glanced at the liquid residing in his mug, shaking it lightly to watch it swish around, and watched as Adams began to jug his. Curious, he smelt the alcohol known as booze, and he was right, it smelt just as bad as he thought, regardless he took a sip of it. It tasted equally bad, but as he recovered from the taste, there was a kick, a buzz to it that made him feel a little energize from some odd reason.

After a long sip, draining the mug of its contents, he finally placed it back on the table, working the last of the buzz from his teeth. He looked at Adams, who smiled at him. "See? What'd I tell ya? It's strong, but it's still fun, right?"

"It was okay, but I don't really like the taste of it that much."

"Well of course you don't, neither do I. In fact, it all pretty much tastes like shit all the time. Nobody who drinks alcohol does it for the taste, they do it for fun, that's why they do it all the time, to have a good time. Wanna another, my treat?"

Murray hesitated, but then nodded, "Alright, sure. Hit me!"

After two... no, _three _hours of consuming jug after jug of booze, both Murray and Adams were intoxicated, or as people seem to call, "wasted". They both sat at the counter, rows of empty glasses at their sides, while they laughed in stupor at jokes neither of them even exchanged. They were just so drunk, neither of them could see straight.

"Wow!" Adams said, remotely amazed, "Murray dude, I am so wasted."

"Yeah, I think I am too," the hippo said, quizzically, "everything looks weird, even _you_."

"That's not what the ladies say," he replied, bursting into laughter. He spotted a group of woman seated at a booth on the far end of the barroom, "Hey, if you don't mind, I'm seeing something worth looking at... I'll be right back dude, I'll meet up with you in about - I don't know..."

Before the Doberman could really make out an exact ending sentence, he hopped of his stool and soggily sauntered over to the booth, leaving the hippo by himself.

Murray looked back to the half empty jug in his hand, and reluctantly drained the alcohol from the glass - no point in letting it go to waste, right? With the last of it, he thought about getting another, sure Adams wouldn't mind him getting another drink on his tab, but found himself a little too sluggish to call to the bartender, in fact he nearly slumped on the counter.

"Hello there," greeted a feminine voice. He turned his head to his right, finding a woman in front of him.

She was a clouded leopard, a gorgeous one at that as far as he could tell. In fact with all of what he observed from her he thought he would have thought about whom she reminded him of, but he was too stupor to think or see straight.

"You look a little lonely," she told him with an alluring voice, "Mind if I keep your company?"

"Uh... sure." Murray replied, surprised that a stranger - especially a woman - would really approach him to make such an offering.

She smiled and took a seat on the stool beside him, while he kept his eyes fixated on her. She had a body worthy of a dancer, she wore a hooded jersey cut short in length, which revealed half her belly, some dark jeans, along with pair of boots on her feet, and dazzling features of stripes all around her body. Her face captivated him, with her striped cheeks, purple lips, emerald eyes, and long raven hair.

Her smile grew wider, obviously catching on to him checking out her features, "See something you like?" She asked him, batting her eyelids as he shuddered nervously, "It's okay, I'm not offended if you were. Listen, you seem like a nice guy, not like all the idiots in this bar, maybe we can find some place quiet - like maybe... your place perhaps?"

"Uh... okay, but - but I just need to get my friend," Murray replied.

"Really? Tell me good sir, is your friend familiar with Mesa City?"

"Yeah, Adams knows the whole town inside and out. He can find his way around easy."

"And you, do you at least know where your place is?"

"Yeah, I live at the Big Winner's Den Casino."

"My, that's a sweet gig," she said, "you know, since your friend knows the city good enough, I'm sure he wouldn't mind if we drove to your Casino and left him behind. He can find his way back any time, so he won't be angry. What do you say?"

Murray thought about it with his half-dulled mind and decided it wouldn't hurt anyone if he did just leave Adams here, he was having a good time so he probably wouldn't have cared anyway. "Okay, let's go," he said, standing up from his stool as he began to wobble a little.

The clouded leopard took to his side, wrapping an arm around him to help support him as they made their way out of the barroom. He showed her to his Van as she ushered him into the front passenger's seat, while she took the driver's spot.

* * *

As they entered his suite, she marveled at all the features and accustoms to his home. "Wow, you've certainly have quite the digs. I'm sorry, what was your name?"

"Murray," he said, making his way sloppily to the love seat, where he slumped upon the comfortable cushions. She casually took a seat outstretched next to him, kicking off her boots as she now sat close to him.

"Well, this is nice Murray," she said, stretching her arms above her head as she sighed, "excuse me Murray, but do you mind if I make myself a little more comfortable?"

"Sure, go ahead," he allowed, but was taken off guard as she reached underneath her hooded jersey and pulled it up over her head, tossing it on the arm of the couch. To his extreme surprise, and although he wasn't expecting her to get that type of comfortable, she wasn't wearing a shirt underneath her jersey.

She sat back within the couch, wearing only a tight, purple brassiere on her torso while she drew closer to him, leaning on him. She moaned, "Yes, this is really nice, isn't it Murray?"

The hippo murmured, unsure how to react to this situation. Here he was, drunk into a stupor, with a hot and likely aroused clouded leopard leaning too close to him to make him feel a little uncomfortable, but slightly aroused himself. He looked at her as she held that bewitching smile, with those two purple, delicious lips looming closer to him.

"Miss, wait," he tried to protest, but she ignored him and started kissing him.

Murray tried to push her away gently, but she refused his gesture and continued repeatedly kissing him over the face, getting close enough to wrap her arms around his head and pull herself closer. Soon, he found himself resisting less and less, and finally accepted and pulled her closer to him, as she pressed her body into his. Placing both hands on his head, she massaged his scalp with her thumbs and shared her breath with his own, and the kiss grew deeper and more breathy with each passing second.

He scooped her up in his arms and carried her bridal style up the stairs and into his room, where he strolled over to the bed took a seat at the foot of the mattress. She leaned further onto him, using a mysterious strength to push him down onto the bed, where she now lied on top of him. Her fingers danced and dug into his shirt, fiddling with the buttons until she finally removed it, and pushed him further into the mat.

Lying flat on his bed with his shirt practically ripped off, Murray watched as the beautiful woman slipped her fingers into her jeans and pulled them off, showing off her incredible, slim legs to him as she climbed to his eye level. She pushed him further into the mattress and kissed him full again, pressing her body close to his own.

He could only stare as she leaned up and smiled as her hands crept behind her back, easily slipping off her brasserie's hooks each and slipping it off. The bra was stripped and dropped onto the mattress, along with the rest of their clothes, as she slenderly lowered and pressed her body into his. His cheeks were compressed by both her hands as she smashed her lips onto his.

He had felt the need to resist or protest but decided against it, the textures of her lips widened and sparked while the movements of her naked form vibrated circular on his own. He felt one of her hands trail down his cheek, down across his torso and belly, and appeared to caress his manhood. She leaned closer, taking his hand in hers and pressing it against her body, as her tongue roamed and probed his mouth, licking his lips on the way in. He could only close his eyes and let her continue.

* * *

He felt the sun beam shot from the window and shine over his eyelids, and Murray finally opened his eyes and awoke sober. He sat up from underneath the covers, unsure exactly what had happened to him last night. He remembered Adams taking him to a bar where he paid for both their drinks, he was guessing apparently he had drank too much—and had gotten drunk for his first time.

He also remembered a woman, a clouded leopard specifically, who had approached him at the bar and kept him company throughout the night, especially when she had drove him to back to the Big Winner's Den and escorted him to his room. His mind was still a little blurry from the alcohol, he remembered them sitting together and...removal of clothing? He couldn't really remember.

Murray looked around the contents of his suite bedroom, just about everything looked to be exactly where it was when he had left, until he casually glanced to the other side of his bed, finding a feminine body with long, raven hair shielding the rest of her form lying underneath the covers. He couldn't believe it, was it all true?—he extended his hand and touched the lock of hair, as it slid smoothly off his finger.

The dark, raven hair was soft as silk, and the stirring moan was more than enough to tell him that she was definitely real—and it was at that point that he realized he had gotten himself into trouble.

"Uh... Miss?" He gave her a gentle nudge, "Miss? I - uh, I think you need to wake up now. We've... got to talk."

He felt like such an idiot whispering to her in that light, mild tone, it wasn't even funny, but as a result to his actions the woman turned over to face him, and it became the greater surprise.

"Yes, dear..." Neyla replied, her head leaning on her propped arm as she smiled.

Murray's eyes flew wide with an obvious shocked reaction as he faced Neyla, the same devious feline who had double crossed him and the Cooper Gang those years ago. He hadn't forgotten, how could he have forgotten? She was the back stabber whom was responsible for the first separation between him and Sly and Bentley, the very person who had played them all for idiots, who had used them to get what she had wanted, and - awkwardly - the naked woman lying in the same bed with him, eying him with a wide, satisfied smile.

The hippo slowly turned his gaze away from hers and fell back into bed, overwhelmed by the predicament he had suddenly found himself in - _what the world happened last night_?


End file.
